Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Swaziland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Pierre Henry to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
cv313,
Kurtis Blow,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Brass Construction,
Sister Nancy,
Sugar Minott,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Average White Band,
The Fugs,
Albert Ayler,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxette,
Section 25,
Wolf Eyes,
Moss Icon,
Leonard Cohen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aural Exciters,
The Associates,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hoover,
Soul II Soul,
Barrington Levy,
Scratch Acid,
The Remains,
the Normal,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marine Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sarah Menescal,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Quando Quango,
The Busters,
The Mojo Men,
Bob Dylan,
Cybotron,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Slits,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smiths,
Quadrant,
T.S.O.L.,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Q65,
Donny Hathaway,
Blossom Toes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.